


Leliana's song

by stillplainy



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, Drabble, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Leliana was killed in the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Lyrium ghost, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28863159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillplainy/pseuds/stillplainy
Summary: This one is hers alone.or:Leliana feels fleeting.
Relationships: Cole & Leliana (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 6





	Leliana's song

**Author's Note:**

> Like always: English isn't my native language. Sorry for any errors, etc.

She hears the whispers. Lyrium speaks to her in soft tumbles. The song does not consist of any lyrics, being just a melody. Hers alone to bear its tempting noise. This art is rather a sensation than an actual tune, which cannot be hummed because every time she tries, the feeling dis a p p e a r s.  
Just like her.

She was something more, now that is lost to her.  
Once a beautiful bard seeking her redemption walked into a sanctum forgotten by the world. A true believer, her precious blood s p la tte re d the ground. She was no more. Faith could not save the redhead from this fate. Lyrium, that raw poisonous element, mourned her deeply and from itself, from sadness or perhaps from nothing alone brought to life her exact copy just because this world did not deserve such a sacrifice.  
And that was what she is. A spare part. What for?

Sometimes she plays and sings pretty tales like she used to, but now her heart does not jitter along with their rhythm.  
Now the only tune that moves her is a sole purpose.   
She does not crave vengeance, has little interest in power. She wants to set things right.   
She does not know that yet, and before she learns, she p e r i s h e s.

  
‘There is little difference between us,’ Cole notices. He tries. They all do. ‘After all.’  
‘Perhaps.’

Each day, the spirit feels more and more human. Soon he would not be able to understand.  
She clenches her hands. They fell cold, and her heart slows.

She hears the constant croaking of the ravens. The song gets numb, and her thoughts melt into blank spaces. Thinking clearly becomes hard.   
The job is done.

The melody quiets and calls her elsewhere. She may be imagining things, but air smells like pine cones, like fresh snow- like blood. It’s haven.  
And she is gone.


End file.
